For Castiel
by EarthboundCas
Summary: Castiel has sinned in the eyes of Heaven, and he has no wish for redemption. ((tw: self-harm, suicide mention))


For Castiel, the days start to slow down; nothing really means anything. Time goes into oblivion, and if he brought it in himself to manufacture a fraction of hope, it would just die away, die like the rest of Creation. God Himself has no effect on Castiel now. It doesn't matter- Cas still perches onto his balcony every night and prays to a God he doesn't truly believe in anymore. Nothing means something, and everything means nothing. Castiel only sees the world in black hues, sadness draining away anything meaningful to him. He is still an angel in the eyes of God, but he knows with certainty that God would not accept Castiel. Angels are meant for following, not freedom. Why would He take interest in a broken angel, an angel with wings scarred black as night, marking him as the lone rebel? Why would He find Castiel to mean something to mankind; all he has is failure and sorrow in the form of markings tracing every inch of skin on him. Angels were not made to feel, to cause harm onto oneself. Castiel has sinned in the eyes of Heaven, and he has no wish for redemption.

One day, Dean comes along.

Dean, by all aspects, is a beautiful man, and a righteous one at that. He is a follower, loyal to those whom he respects. He… is such a great solider. God had the right intention for him to live, and live on the path he chooses. It makes Castiel sinfully jealous. If only he good be as great of a man Dean is, but no amount of good acts will get him to be the follower he once was. Dean and Cas were sitting in old oak wood chairs at Bobby's house, discussing the plan of action for their next hunt. Dean takes a sip of his beer and asks for Castiel to grab a book from the nearby shelf. Innocently enough, Cas gets up and does the action. Not only does his sleeve pull down just enough for his scars to be shown, but Dean just happens to have looked at Cas that very moment, eyes widening in disbelief and confusion- almost fear. Dean stands up abruptly, his chair hitting the stone flooring with an echo. Castiel doesn't realize his mistake until Dean grabs him by the shoulder and spins him around, Cas' book flying out of his hands and onto the ground.

"Cas… Cas, what's on your arms?" Dean asks, voice gone so quiet that the angel is surprised at his tone.

Castiel shrugs nonchalantly and answers. "Just battles in Heaven. Some of them left me with a few minor scrapes." He is painfully aware of how hard his heart is beating, and for a second he's scared that Dean can hear it beat.

Dean just shakes his head, a simple movement, his eyes pinned to the floor as he bits his lip. "Cas. I'm smarter than that."

Everything crashes. Cas can't think of what to do next. He considers just simply getting the hell out of Dodge, but he can't bring himself to do that in front of Dean. So, slowly, Castiel swallows and raises his overcoat sleeve. He starts to turn away as more cuts and scars are shown, shame plastered onto his face. Castiel doesn't want to look at Dean, but he swears that he heard his breath falter.

In front of Dean's eyes are miles of scars, whether they are small, faded ones or cuts that seem to stretch the length of Castiel's arm. Dean… he doesn't know what the hell to do. Since Cas came into his life, he always saw him as the leader of the pack, the one that has everything under control. But now, Castiel seems anguished; small and frail under Dean's stare.

"Cas, buddy, I had no idea… You, you could've come to me…" he starts; at lose of words or what to do to make the situation any less depressing. Dean struggles under the memory of when he was 15. He had just come home from another day of school to find Sammy lying, bleeding, on the ground, blades scattered around him. Even though he has dealt so much with self-harm, he is just as scared as Cas is.

Dean runs a trembling hand over his face and timidly addresses Castiel.

"How-how long has this been going on for?"

"I started the day I left Heaven."

Oh god, Dean can't breathe. Oh my god, Castiel doesn't deserve this shit. He has done nothing but protect and love the Winchesters from day one, and right now, the entire universe owes him.

Suddenly, Castiel slides off his trench coat and rolls up his sleeves, now facing Dean. When he is done, his hands hide his tear-filled face, and his arms show what years-worth of cutting has done to him. There are just _so many scars_, and both Dean and Cas are crying. Most of them are angry, red scars that travel from his elbows to his hands, and the rest are short, white ones, clearly done from years previously.

Dean doesn't think before rushing Cas and practically throwing his arms around him. He can hear himself crying, his own tears dampening the front of Castiel's white shirt. Cas, he just leans into the hug, face pressed against Dean's shoulder while he sobs. Dean rubs circles into the angel's back and grips him tightly, calming each other and slowly relearning how to breathe. After a few minutes, they release each other and stand only a few inches apart. Dean is unnerved at how unusual Cas looks, his eyes a fiery red and lined with tears. Dean then sits himself and Cas back to the table, the other man's arms sprawled out on top while Dean examines them.

"I am so sorry Dean… I failed you and the rest of the angels."

"Seriously, man, you don't deserve a single ounce of sadness that this fucking world has given you. You are the best man I've ever known, you got that?" Dean growls lowly, overcome with protectiveness.

"Uh, guys, what's going on in here?" Sam says, interrupting with a knock on the door frame.

Castiel pins his arms to the side, desperate for Sam to just _leave_, his eyes filled with embarrassment and sorrow.

The lanky hunter walks over to the table and eyes Cas' arms, and suddenly, his face is blank; devoid of all emotion. That's when Sam tumbles to the ground, his face telling Castiel's worse fear- he _knows._ Sam, all-too familiar with cutting, rubs his hand over his face to try and cover the growing tears in his eyes.

"Castiel," he chokes," I am so fucking sorry that this has happened."

In one fluid motion, Sam is upright again, and pulls both Dean and Cas into the biggest hug of their lives. Cas can't help but cry again, balling Sam's shirt up in his clenched fists.

And that's how the Winchesters and angel find themselves at 1 AM; weeping, and wrapped around each other.

It's 3 AM and storming, and yet the boys are all settled down, seated lazily in fluffed arm-chairs or resting on a blanket, their chest to the floor. Dull light gleams from several lamps, and Bobby has made himself scarce, leaving the 3 boys to themselves. Dean can't help but start to thinking how cliché, slumber-party esque the whole situation is, but then he remembers that he's in a room with himself, the high school drop-out that has been to hell and back, literally, his brother that has been Lucifer himself and soulless, and an angel of the Lord that has seen both the beginning and ending of Creation. Sam starts to talk first.

"When I was 14, everything just… stopped. I…, fell into depression and couldn't help but feel how life was just so worthless and temporary; I just couldn't escape the feeling of emptiness. So… I turned to self-harm as an escape." Sam is whispering now, evidentially saddened by his past nightmares. "It was my everything. Dad just couldn't- didn't- understand, he was just angered by my 'rebellious and ridiculous ways'. He didn't understand why I couldn't just man-up and get over it. Dean, I love him, but I knew that he wouldn't help either. So day after day, I sat alone in my room with darkness itself and toke all my pain into my blade. When I broke down and Dean saw me, I toke it upon myself to recover, and it was bumpy at first, but I made it through." Sam ended, a small smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

Dean nodded softly and thuds his brother on the back. Both Sam and Castiel looked at him expectantly, preparing themselves for what Dean might say. Dean finally got the memo and coughed nervously, thinking about what he might tell. Sam, in all honesty, didn't think that Dean was going to say squat- it wasn't every day that Dean just sat down at talked about his feelings. But Dean spoke.

"Truly, I am the saddest, most worthless piece of pathetic shit this world has ever known." Sam and Cas stared at Dean, and then each other, both about to say something but were cut off by Dean's next statement.

"Yeah, I know, I am literally the Righteous Man in terms of those winged dicks but hey, what isn't there to not love about myself? I am Dean Winchester, the man who stopped the apocalypse, but still thinks that he is an asshole and can't help but think about dying every day since he was 16. I have been through a fucking lot, and every morning, when that sun comes up, I'm wondering, "how the hell am I still alive?" I have never, and would never, self-harm, but suicide… is a different story. I hate myself. I have so many daddy issues, so many flaws and errors, and _mistakes. _Why couldn't I be the fighter dad always wanted me to be? Why couldn't I just be _okay _for him? Why-" And that is when the most astonishing thing Dean Winchester has ever experienced hits him.

No, literally, hits him. Castiel tosses himself at Dean, a quick punch hitting him square in the face. Before Dean even finishes his 'whoa, what the hell man?', Castiel plants his lips right on top of the Righteous Man's and if Dean believed in God, he knew that Him and the angels would be singing. Cas is grabbing onto the hunter's shoulder's furiously, eyes shut tightly as he takes a small breath and dives back into Dean's lips, Dean's hands running down Cas' arms and coming to a stop the small of his back. In between gasps, Cas is muttering curses and rants on about how extraordinary Dean is, how much he wants to utterly worship him and how goddamn _wrong _he is about his entire pity speech. At one point, Dean and Cas stumble into the back wall, not paying any attention Bobby's irritated yell from the top story. Suddenly, Cas pulls away, almost frightening anger (and pure lust) outlining his eyes. He stares at Dean's dark eyes, squints and tilts his head, and then heads back to his chair and sits quietly back down. Sam is silent, a dumb smirk and sideways eyes plastered on his face.

"That was, by far, the absolute closest thing to porn I have ever seen. Dean, holy shit, you are the greatest brother ever and you know I would die if anything happened to you, so please never let yourself get that low ever again. Castiel, where did you even _learn _to kiss like that?" Sam says at once, barely taking a breath.

"I-I'm not gay." Dean mutters, cheeks reddening.

"Your erection says otherwise." Cas points out.

Dean's blush goes from a red to dark maroon and spreads down his neck as he curls in on himself. "We'll… continue that later." Dean whispers, extremely quietly.

For the next few minutes, Cas and Sam have a silent conversation with themselves, smiles on their faces, and looking at Dean, who is still blushing madly and nursing a growing smile on his face.

Then, Cas coughs, and the weird spell is broken, both brother's eyes back on him.

"I, friends, am an awful, miserable angel. I have failed my mission in the eyes of God, killed so many of my brothers and sisters, and have done the absolute worst in times of need. I am at sheer lost as why you two are still my friends. I have left Sam's soul in hell with Lucifer… I have betrayed both you and your brother, and helped Crowley along the way. It is a total mystery why I haven't been killed by one of you, and I would not blame you if you did that. I was so enraptured by a false sense of loyalty to a man that turned his back on the world that I blindly followed whatever everyone else said, even if it meant taking out my fellow angels. But when I escaped the toxic grip of Heaven and believed in the common humans, my life changed, but I am still wondering whether it was a good or bad thing. All that confusion at my new life and me having no idea what to do with some new feelings I had caused me to… grab my angel blade… and give myself punishment for my sins in the way I saw fitting. I haven't been able to stop since, and my most recent…'punishment' was only three days ago." Castiel falters, and lifts up his shirt slightly, exposing a fresh cut about four inches long on his abdomen.

"I don't heal them, I let them heal naturally as a way of reminding myself of my crimes." he ends with a sigh.

Dean and Sam lean forward, looking at Cas with sad eyes.

Sam shakes his head dismissively, and begins. "Castiel, you have helped out my brother and I so _much _in the short few years we've known you. You've saved our lives countless of times, and if being friends with you ever showed me something, it would definitely be just how much I have my faith and trust in you. Cas, Dean and I really love you, and I know that we'd both kill, and even die, for you. We all know that all your past mistakes weren't you fault, you genuinely thought you were doing what you had to."

Dean praises Sam's words in a quick acknowledgement and looks up at the stunned angel, clearly overwhelmed by the kindest words ever spoken to him.

"Cas, do you really want to stop? I… need to help you out." Dean questions.

"If it will make you happy, then I suppose I could give it a try." Cas answers with a tilt of his head.

Sam slaps his hands down onto his knees and nearly runs up the stairs, yelling a quick 'good night', obviously aware of what Dean and Cas will be doing in the next few hours. Sam knows that Bobby is in for quite a shock when he relays what he experienced less than 5 minutes ago.

It's 4 AM, and this is how the Winchesters, Castiel, and Bobby settle down for the night. After Sam runs to Bobby and tells him what happened, Bobby slams his beer bottle onto his nightstand and falls, literally falls, into his worn-out armchair.

"Was about damn time those boys figured out each other. Another month and I would've locked them in the broom closet together." he grumbles with a sigh, furrowing his eyebrows and laughing light-heartedly.

"Oh, Sam, you owe me $20 from that bet we had about Dean and Cas."

Sam forks over the money and sulks, trudging down the stairs and making his way to the couch to sleep. Over at the opposite side of the room, there's an odd shuffling noise coming from the bathroom, and the 'click' of a lock is heard suddenly. Sam glances at the door and blushes in embarrassment at the noises coming from the locked room.

"Oh my god, Cas…"

"Dean… Dean, _please."_

Sam immediately jumps onto the couch and rolls a blanket over himself, huffing and nodding and grinning all at the same time while he folds a pillow between his ears.

"Gross…"


End file.
